


Flares

by black_hat_with_bells



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M, NC-17, exhibition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-02
Updated: 2011-05-02
Packaged: 2017-10-18 21:16:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/193390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/black_hat_with_bells/pseuds/black_hat_with_bells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Adam and Claire play a game</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flares

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jaune_Chat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaune_Chat/gifts).



> for jaune_chat in five acts meme

"We're losing them," Claire said, stiffly, throwing her cards out there from the beginning.

Neither of them was supposed to be meeting covertly. After all that had happened between them, this was meeting with swords bared at their throats. But Claire had gotten bolder over the years: after dying a few times, nothing scares you. The problem was, he wasn't afraid either. All his deaths had accumulated in his eyes, and he hadn't stopped yet.

"I know," he said quietly. "I'm surprised Peter's made two hundred years." He tried to hide his satisfaction and relief, but she could tell it was in his tone too.

"I'm surprised Sylar's made a decade."

"Due to poor handling?" Adam inquired. Claire scowled but then her mouth softened.

"I think they need each other," Claire offered as a suggestion. She had thought he'd disagree, as he often did, but he drummed his fingers on the table in a thoughtful way. Ten weeks ago, Peter had had an...an issue of sorts. He'd gone into a warzone and had gotten so emotionally affected that he almost went nuclear. Adam was there to calm him, but then again, Adam had brought him into it. She had seen the pictures, of Adam's arms around Peter--taking the power into himself.

On her side of things, a year ago, Sylar had wanted to kill himself. She had gotten him through it, assuring him of his importance to her, of how special he was.

She remembered how all of this began. Before Peter went back to save Adam, it had just been the three of them. Claire had seen how Sylar had looked at Peter, and her first instinct was to protect Peter. In any way necessary.

She had offered herself to Sylar, instead, giving him constant attention, something he craved and had given into. He also craved the thing he found most consistent: non-forgiveness. He knew she wouldn't ever forgive him, therefore, he'd never be in danger of losing her forgiveness The problem was, being with someone that long, you start to understand them better. She didn't dislike Sylar now. She...was feeling differently, though she could never show too much of her feelings.

Now, at the end of it, Peter was getting too...beaten by the world, and Sylar was tired.

"I've helped Peter for years," Adam said, defensive, and she could see why. She was defensive too. She had helped Sylar, even when she didn't have to, and yet here she was.

"I..." Claire began. He studied her. "I can see that," Claire said quietly. "Do you care about him?"

"Do you care about yours?"

Claire smiled. "What do we do? Peter can't go nuclear or lose his mind, and Sylar, if not suicidal, will go on to kill again."

"We lose them," Adam said. Claire tensed, and for half a second, she thought she saw some bastard child version of empathy in his eyes. "They have our ability, yes. But it didn't come from their own natures."

She knew it was true, in an instinctive way. Peter and Sylar were the type of men who were meant to flare and burn bright but never last long. Still, she had to fight it.

"I can't accept that."

"How unfortunate for you," Adam said and stood up. Claire stared up at him in dismay.

"Don't you want to try and change it? Let's put aside our differences and let them see each other."

He laughed bitterly. "That'd be a last resort, if we ever get there."

At first, Claire thought the remark was directed at her, but she soon knew differently. Once Peter and Sylar were together again, what would their value be?

"I think we're there," Claire said, and after awhile, he gave her a look of understanding. It was why they always had their differences: they knew how dangerous they were to each other. They knew how the other could get hurt.

"Tomorrow," Adam said, gripping the back of the chair as if in serious thought, "there's to be a minor, meaningless scuffle in Russia. I propose we make it a joint project. Neither of us lose ground, but it'll be something."

Claire thought about it, sliding the drink back and forth in her hands, and nodded. A day later, she had Sylar and was on her way. The drone of the airplane made Claire's head feel heavy. She was hot and boxed in.

It was the typical army plane, and Sylar was feeling it too. She saw droplets of sweat rolling down his cheek, and she leaned over and licked him, shocking him--as always--with her unpredictability. He blinked at her, and he tasted salty, and like hers. She smiled and twisted her hair up into a knot.

"This trip is torturous. Let's take a shortcut to meet them," Claire suggested, winking, and without waiting, jerked the door open and jumped into free air. Her heart leapt into her throat--as always--and the wind roared past her ears. She smiled as she plummeted and held out her hands, the wind now going past her fingers.

She passed through some clouds, feeling the humidity on her face, and she heard him flying after her. She turned around and held out her hands. It was up to him to catch her, even if she couldn't get hurt by the fall. His dark eyes flashed, and he made the decision, and reached out and took her hands, slowing her down gently.

She wrapped her arms around him, and they flew through the open sky, heading for where Adam and Peter were.

***

Their reunion: Claire had expected it to be emotional.

She led Sylar through the maze of streets and made it to the center.

"This city. It's like being in a snow globe," he said, looking up at the gloomy sky and the ancient buildings.

"Well, nothing good happens in a snow globe," Claire said. Sylar studied her. "It's a surprise," Claire said, smiling at him. "A good one," she added as an afterthought. "I hope," as an extra-afterthought.

She saw Adam first, in his sunglasses of all things, and Peter wandering behind him. Peter didn't look so good. He had stubble. Adam tugged on his shoulder, and Claire bit back a smile as he pointed somewhat dramatically in their direction. Sylar had taken to staring at the sky again. She kicked his foot and nodded towards Peter.

The air could have crackled. In fact, it did. His hands sparked. Peter's glowed. It was really--something. She expected a song to break out in thin air and have them running together through a field of flowers...or make that snow. Adam looked at her, and though his eyes were shielded by the glasses, she could sense his bemusement. But, at the heart of it, how good could he be? She supposed Peter was safe for him, as Sylar was safe for her. Peter and Sylar loved each other.

She didn't feel too good about that, but she pushed her feelings away and acted, standing up and waving Adam over to discuss their plans. In reality, there wasn't much to discuss. There was a hostage situation in the middle of a warzone (the hostages were civilians,) and Peter went in invisible while Sylar stopped a few bullets. They were done in a few hours. Easy.

So, Adam drug them all to an abandoned bar to celebrate. Now that the hostages were mysteriously safe, she heard in the distance the sounds of destruction renew themselves.

"I haven't seen one of these in years," Adam commented, pointing to a jukebox. Claire rolled her eyes. Peter and Sylar didn't break in staring at each other. "This calls for some music," Adam announced.

"I don't know if now's the time," Peter said, rubbing his temple. "There are people in trouble."

"Exactly," Sylar muttered.

"We can't," Claire reminded them. "No Special will be used as a weapon of mass destruction. This rule was made recently, wasn't it?" Really, she just didn't want Peter involved, Peter who made that rule when he let his emotions run wild.

Peter looked away.

"Because they are cowards," Sylar pointed out, watching Peter.

"Semantics," Adam started up the machine anyway. "Now, I know you won't let me stand up here and be a fool."

There was a long pause, basically with Adam standing up there being a fool. She looked over at Peter, and no, he wasn't biting. Claire stood up and he grinned at her, holding out his hand. She took it and he pulled her against him. "You'll have to follow my lead, you know."

"I knew the drawbacks when I took your hand," she said, smiling right back, and he swung her around.

"No matter, I doubt you can keep up."

"We'll see about that."

She kept up with him, even as the songs kept changing and war was going on outside. There was dust sprinkling on their heads as they danced, and they didn't flinch. Sylar and Peter did, but thus, that was their nature.

"I think they're holding hands underneath the table," Adam whispered into her ear.

"I think they're holding more than hands underneath the table."

"Claire," he fake-gasped. "...we can only hope."

She didn't really think they were holding hands, or anything else, because Peter and Sylar were as far away from each other as they could be.

"What do we do?" Claire asked Adam.

"This might be old fashioned of me, but get them a room," he suggested.

"That's a classic," Claire agreed, and after a few moments longer, they went to gather their charges.

***

The minute Sylar was in the room with her, he began to shape-shift into a dark-eyed girl. Sometimes he shape-shifted into her, which she hated to say was appealing at times. Tonight, Claire stopped him and took him down the hall.

"What's wrong? What did I do?" Sylar asked, anxious.

"Nothing," she soothed. "I just want you to see if Peter is okay for me," Claire said, agreeably.

"You trust me with that," Sylar said, seeming struck.

"I do."

After depositing Sylar into the room with Peter, where they stared at each other some more, Claire was originally going to go back to her room but found herself wandering towards Adam's, bottle in hand.

"I brought my own," she announced her presence, walking in without knocking. Adam seemed to expect her. There were two glasses on the windowsill, and Peter wouldn't be in here all night.

"I see that. It has your name on it," Adam commented, noticing the name of the brand, 'Bitch'.

"Funny, the name reminded me of you. I was going to share."

"That is funny. You. Sharing." He slid the chair out next to him, practically lounging in his. She took a seat besides him. Thus, they began to drink. She did share hers, and he gave her a bottle from 2010, a 'good year'.

They listened, idly leaning towards each other. She had made it a mission in her life never to really need anything from anyone. She had made it a point to be needed, not the other way around. She hoped this didn't count for need, sitting with him, but she supposed it didn't feel that way. They were in the same boat, and she could tell by his casualness that he was worried.

"Do you want to go check on them?" she asked.

"It has been quiet," he said. "And the walls are still intact. Strange."

They wandered down the faded floral design of the carpet. She listened as they drew closer to the room.

"Ah-hah. You see. They're having a laugh," he said.

Claire squinted up at him. "Uh, that's not laughter. Someone's um....crying."

Adam made a face and motioned for her to flee with him. They had resigned themselves to wait even longer. It was a full silence, as if he wanted to say something. He crossed his arms, and clenched his jaw. "I treat him well."

Claire thought about it. She thought about what all they've done: they did send Peter and Sylar to fight with each other more than once, to secure their claims. He did, again, drag an empath into a warzone. But...she knew Adam believed he treated Peter well.

"It might not be him sobbing," Claire said. "Actually, my bet is on Sylar."

"He has no reason to sob either," Adam offered. She looked at the floor.

"You know, they probably don't know what to do without us there to tell them," she said, feeling a sick twisting in her chest and therefore, feeling vicious because of it.

There was a catch in his breath. "Claire. Every now and then, you surprise me."

Claire lifted her head to catch him looking at her, consumingly. She was about to tell him off, break their thin bridge of a truce, when she realized what she had said. Her mouth opened, and her own eyes lit up with delight.

Now and then, she surprised herself.

***

"There's a problem here," Adam announced. Peter and Sylar ducked apart.

It was hard to say who had been the one in pain, and that was for the best. Peter stared up at them in dismay. "What happened? Is there another attack?"

"No," Claire said. "The problem is you're wearing too much clothing."

Adam nodded his agreement, and despite the two on the bed resembling deer in the headlights, she felt no shame. Adam didn't either.

"We have a game in mind. Instead of all the fighting and unnecessary but often delightful violence--." Claire elbowed him, "we decided to have another contest. Which one of you will come first."

Claire still felt no shame.

"That's," Peter sputtered, red-faced.

"What I want," Adam said. "And what you want. It's for the greater good. You win, and we can help those in her territory."

Claire made a face. "Likewise for you, Sylar. You don't want Adam to gain ground, do you?"

They still weren't getting it. Adam and Claire each took a seat at the other side of the room. She really didn't care about the territory he had asked for, and to think of it, neither did he. It was all just...to add a sense of risk.

"I'll be generous. I will offer you the first move," Adam said.

"And I'm going to take your offer," Claire retorted, and he rolled his eyes. "Sylar, bite and lick Peter's neck."

Sylar, who had been the most quiet in the exchange, gripped Peter's shoulders. Knowing him like she did, he did want Peter and did like to have what he wanted. This opportunity, he would not waste. And he didn't. He pinned Peter down and bit along his shoulder and up, soothing the wounds with his tongue before they healed. With this power, in the midst of healing, that was a great sensation. She had tried running silk over her wounds, a trick she learned from Adam during a time when they were far friendlier. So, she knew how good that felt, having requested it from Sylar herself.

And she bit back a laugh at what a problem this was. Being in the room and sensing the tension, the intimacy, was pushing her to hair-trigger sensitivity herself. But she smiled at Adam who was studying her, having already thought of this aspect. Adam, Adam, always the thinker. But she could keep up, and he was trapped in this too.

"Peter," Adam said, "Use a little bit of electricity to get him hard."

Claire narrowed her eyes. That power, she hadn't thought of in that way, but Adam seemed to know exactly what he was doing. And then she thought about what an underhanded thing it was, and she gripped the side of her chair. Peter obeyed, not thinking, and soon, Sylar was thinking of the insult. She didn't even think he realized.

"Strip him so we can judge," Adam added, and before Claire could move, Peter had cut through Sylar's shirt and jeans along the sides, freed his already-there and straining erection, and began to stroke him, fingers sparking here and there with mastery. Clearly, Peter had done the stroking thing before, as he knew how to do it in such a way where Sylar responded, his dark eyes growing darker with lust. They were in a danger zone.

More trouble for the judges in the room, who were fond of danger zones. She crossed her legs, ignoring the thrum down low. Adam acted unaffected, but she didn't look at him below the waist. She kept her cool.

"Sylar," Claire said, her voice as even as she could make it. "Repay the favor. Take Peter into your mouth-"

"Rather unimaginative," Adam commented, his voice not as even as he'd like.

"-and use your biological manipulation power. And strip him too. We need to play fair."

Adam furrowed his brow, alarmed. He should be. She had another ace up her sleeve, she was just waiting to use it. For now. She wasn't going to go towards shape-shifting, and she knew Peter could emulate it right back. As long as Adam didn't, she wouldn't.

Sylar mimicked Peter's earlier move, all the while staring directly at him. Peter touched his shoulder, a move undirected. It was out of comfort for Sylar, but still--

"Hands off," Adam said, firmly, surprisingly playing fair after all. Peter took his hands away as if the disconnect pained him. Actually, it might have been to Adam's advantage to--and then Sylar sat up and  
and moved his head down, tongue trailing the path, and took Peter's erection in his mouth, and Claire felt jolted all the way down to her spine. She closed her eyes, but the image was imprinted. She just realized that was her uncle but...she was suddenly back in the days where she hadn't know he was, had only thought of him as her hero. And here she was, giving these directions and hearing them.

Adam was quiet too, and as she opened her eyes to stare at him, she saw his attention was on Peter's face. Something was wrong. He didn't like what he was seeing, she could tell by the way his face was kept neutral. Claire didn't want to look, and she gripped her armchair, and wished she could go to Adam, only she couldn't. Not after everything that happened. But she wanted to.

"All right, it's my turn," Adam said, rather quickly, "Peter, fuck him."

"You could let him kiss him first," Claire said softly.

"I think not."

"Use Lydia's power while he makes love to you, Sylar." To cheat around Adam's move.

Adam snapped his head towards her at her word usage. Claire didn't see the point in denying it. Skin on skin, Sylar gripped Peter's arm, while Peter made love to him, that was the only way to say it. The sound she couldn't block: their moans, and their need. She looked over, and she flushed all along her body, and her heart sped up, and she stopped her hand from reaching down to touch herself. There was a flurry of ink patterns dancing along both their skin as their bodies molded together, and it was secret patterns, with numbers and writing and images that blurred faster and faster. Even now, Adam and she were just outside observers to their love and the sheer depth of it.

Wasn't that the truth about Adam and herself, how outside they were?

Sylar would never look at her that way. She tried to force herself on the truth as if on a knife to accept it and move on but it hurt too badly. She couldn’t 't. Adam kept his eyes on her, willing her to look at him, and she did, and what was in his eyes scared her even more. She couldn't. Not after everything. She was trapped in his gaze and didn't dislike being trapped, fucking each other in such a distant fashion.

At least she could hide there and endure it. The thinly veiled lust (something else, the reason she never tried to kill Adam, that unknowable reason she rationalized away) that was catching and awakening in her like a buried secret (a lockbox that she felt but couldn't open because there was no key for her, as there was no key for him, not truly. She was too afraid of what he could do, what anyone could do, but him especially), and it was only until one of theirs gasped that the spell was broken.

The other one soon followed before she could look, and Peter and Sylar lay together in a heap, limbs tangled. Holding each other.

"Who," she whispered and cleared her throat. "Who was first?"

"It's a draw," Adam said. "Let's just leave it at that. Peter, in my room, in a hour."

Peter nodded, trying to catch Adam's eyes, but Adam turned and left. Claire followed. Sylar would know to come to her afterwards. Her body still throbbed, and she knew she'd take care of herself. She licked her lips and sighed, and Adam caught her arm.

"You aren't thinking of doing anything untoward to your person?" At her look, he clarified, "I meant something more final."

Oh. Death. Suicide. "No, I'd have to stay here. To watch you," Claire said.

"Then, it's for me."

"For the world. To keep it safe from you," she clarified, and he half-smiled at her. It was a weary and knowing smile.

"Just checking your priorities. You know where to find me if things get out of control with yours," he said and that was it. He turned his back, and Claire was about to call after him to prevent him from having the final word...but she let it go. She watched him turn the corner.

Despite the unspoken risk (that Sylar and Peter would go off together), Adam and Claire had accomplished what they had wanted. Peter and Sylar were comforted, sated, and back into balance once more. They had seen something to live for in each other again but had seen how consuming it was for both of them to sustain.

She stood in the hallway for a moment and pulled herself together. Sylar would be back. He'd sense that the feelings with Peter were too dangerous, for Peter and for himself, and he'd chose the steadfast constant. The anchor for his emotions, his rock.

As would Peter go back to Adam.

Claire wanted to be ready for Sylar when he came back to her.


End file.
